The Pensive
by I M Sterling
Summary: Severus Snape takes a dip in Hermione's pensive. Rated M


_AN: I am_ _ **still**_ _trying to write a fitting tribute for the late, great Alan Rickman. I have an idea for something involving a happy, fulfilled portrait, but my muse keeps coming up with ways to bring Snape back. She's refusing to have anything to do with death. So here's a bit of 'celebrating life' for your Valentine's Day pleasure. At least Severus is getting what he deserves….This is rated 'M' so no minors allowed! Oh, and everything you recognize belongs to JKR…except the mistakes. Those are mine._

Severus glared at Flitwick from the rim of his coffee cup. Minerva refused to meet his eyes. The Potions Master sneezed as heart-shaped bubbles floated out of the teacup next to him. The new defense professor had poured a cup of the charmed brew, much to Severus' disgust. He closed his eyes to block out the sight of the garish red and pink decor.

"Did someone liberate Lockhart from the bloody spell-damage ward at St. Mungo's?"

Minerva chuckled under her breath. "Everyone simply seems inclined to celebrate this year Severus." Severus raised a dark brow and went back to glaring at the room in general and Flitwick in particular. He'd recognize the other man's elegant spell casting anywhere. Those blasted bubbles didn't enchant themselves. The little charms teacher was not moved by his glare in the least. "Just a bit of harmless fun for the holiday, Severus!"

"You are encouraging the dunderheads."

Minerva gave him a look he couldn't interpret. "Sometimes dunderheads need a bit on encouragement Severus."

He gave the headmistress a scandalized look. "Minerva…they are students."

She giggled like a mad school girl. "Those aren't the dunderheads I was referring to Severus."

He sneezed again.

"Allergic to love?" The-girl-who-wouldn't-let Severus-die…leaned around the latest defense professor (James K. Rowland) and grinned at the potions master.

Severus rolled his eyes. "Are you responsible for this outrage Miss Granger?" Flitwick's apprentice gave him a cheeky grin. "No, if it had been me, it would have been much different." That was practically an invitation to dip into her mind and scan her public thoughts. Only his supreme self-control kept him from bursting into laughter. The chit was imagining a muggle-style fair with shooting games (where one aimed at hearts and cherubs.)

Professor Rowling tired of getting in the way of the conversation and took his leave. Severus leaned over into the empty space. "You should replace those muggle firearms with wands. Are you a witch or aren't you?"

She rolled her eyes and whispered back, "That would make it too easy. It's supposed to be a game of skill." Then her smile turned wicked. "And if you keep dipping into my mind, you are going to eventually see something you don't expect."

He snorted. "Since it was I that taught you occlumency, I doubt that there is anything under that bushy head of hair that I haven't rifled through."

She raised a single brow at him, mirroring his own expression as she was fond of doing. She really didn't have the presence to pull of that gesture properly, even after defeating a Dark Lord and two years as an apprentice.

She caught his attention when she muttered, "Do you think I left all of my secrets in my head? Don't be daft. I put them in a pensive where they belong."

Severus frowned. "I used the school pensive for my own memories."

She smiled serenely. "I researched the process and made my own pensive before we began our lessons."

Merlin's withered left nut. The witch was amazing.

"I'd like to see it." Severus controlled his face and his voice with difficulty. A pretty face and an enticing figure were one thing. He could quite easily ignore his response to a 'well-turned-ankle'. Mention a bit of tricky magic combined with meticulous research and planning (the runes had to be set at precise times relative to phases of the moon and certain planets) and he had a harder time. In every way.

Bloody hormones. They hadn't been this much of a distraction since puberty.

Hermione chose that moment to reply. She leaned over and whispered to him, the smell of her tea and her warm breath dancing across the exposed skin of his ear.

"Come tonight." The sound of her chair being pushed back heralded her departure, and not a moment too soon. His mind was so far into the gutter that it had apparently set up housekeeping.

Severus glared at the tented state of his robes and poured himself another cup of coffee and began to recite arithmancy tables in his mind. His robes hid a multitude of sins, but if he left the table at this moment, nothing was going to hide his…growing reaction to the witch.

 **HGSSHGSSHGSS**

Severus cursed loudly as he viciously vanished another faulty potion. "Get. Out." The fourth year students didn't need to be asked twice.

Severus muttered, "Bloody holiday is a menace." His wand vanished a half dozen potions, none of which were up to their maker's normal brewing standard.

Part of that, he admitted in his head, was his own distraction.

He and Granger had formed an interesting relationship over the last two years. He was grateful that the little witch had saved his life (most of the time) and he admired the grace with which she dealt with the fame thrust upon her. She'd first taken a double apprenticeship in Arithmancy and Transfiguration, and was now working on the title of Charms Mistress with Flitwick.

She'd been remarkably tolerable for a member of the Golden Trio. He'd been convinced to teach her Occlumancy last year (with very little grumbling on his part). He enjoyed being inside her mind. It was neatly organized and clear in most places. The witch loved her friends fiercely. She had clear ideas of right and wrong. She had a vicious streak when thwarted that would give Voldemort a run for his galleons should she ever learn the dark arts. (Which actually made her more interesting if Severus was being completely honest with himself).

Of course, the very fact that her head was neatly labeled and organized alphabetically made reading it fairly simple if she was unaware. And the Occlumency shields she had erected by reading the texts that Dumbledore had given Harry left her with shielding almost as subtle as a brick wall. Thus Headmistress McGonagall had persuaded (read that as bribed) Severus to give the girl lessons over the Christmas holiday.

Had it been over a year? It had. He'd wondered at the time (though he hadn't asked) why she was spending her time learning rather than celebrating with the passel of redheads…but he'd found out (by listening shamelessly to gossip in the teacher's lounge while they thought he was reading) that Hermione had broken off her relationship with the ginger menace.

At the time, he's persuaded himself that the absolute glee he felt was a feeling of righteous reprisal (the Weasley boy had left the others because he was a jealous git, and had Hermione been less faithful to her friend, she might have followed, which would have doomed the Wizarding world…Potter, in Severus' opinion, would have given in to despair during those late months of the war without his 'best friend'.) The boy-who-lived was still a dunderhead in Severus' estimation…any other man of sense would have taken the opportunity left by the red head and seduced his wild-haired companion into a quick marriage at Gretna Green or some such place.

Still, their loss was Severus' gain. For reasons unknown (probably fueled by Gryffindor logic, which was to say, no logic at all) Hermione Granger had insisted on being his friend.

Minerva had done something similar once, so Severus rolled his eyes and continued brewing…lions were worse than Hufflepuffs when it came to trying to wrestle someone into a friendship. They'd try to strong-arm you if you resisted, and Severus actually found himself reluctant to do without her company…which he would have to do if he used his poisoned wit to drive her away.

He couldn't quite say when his feelings of gratitude had taken a turn into territory that made him curse his own lack of self-discipline (Severus Snape, who had always prided himself on that very thing!).

Perhaps it was when she'd worn that inappropriate Muggle swimwear to take a dive in the lake over the summer. Lovegood had ventured by to check on the Mer-population. Hermione had offered to go with her the other girl. Severus had been gathering water-plants for an experimental brew in the shallows. The sight of her in those thin strips of fabric, hugging her curves, hiding almost nothing, merely drawing the eye to the flesh that the bright bits of fabric clung to…

He could pinpoint that moment as the first that he'd had to abandon a task due to his body's reaction to her.

He'd lost count of how many time it had happened, and much to his chagrin, he'd started having daily wank session to keep himself in check. Daily. He hadn't even had daily sessions when he was a randy teen.

Merlin it was embarrassing.

And lately everything she said left his wayward mind picturing her writhing on his bed…or on his desk…against a wall, in his bathtub…in Minerva's office…in the library…

 **HGSSHGSSHG**

He caught no less than fifteen snogging couples in the halls on the way to Hermione's rooms that night, and he wasn't even supposed to be on patrol. He administered slight stinging hexes and point loss until one of the little perverts moaned wildly when the hex hit. The girl was in seventh year, but it didn't bloody matter. He barked out detentions after that.

He was obviously out of sorts when he reached Hermione's rooms. She smirked at his disgruntled expression. He projected his ire with a single phrase. "Valentine's Day."

She gave him a wry half-grin. "You'd think the little dunderheads would find better places to snog."

Severus pulled off his teaching robes, revealing his normal black attire. He regretted the automatic action when he saw that she'd changed into muggle clothing…a matching set of soft cotton shorts and a little scrap of cotton masquerading as a shirt. The straps were thin and only drew attention to her lovely shoulders, her collar bone, her taunt stomach, and the swell of her breast. Her curls were wet and the scent of her shampoo lilted across his path.

He felt his eyes widen. She looked down and summoned a robe without her wand.

He nearly groaned. Wandless freaking magic. He pulled his robes off the peg and around him quickly. He needed to end this soon or even they wouldn't be able to hide his reaction to the combination of skin and power.

The witch was going to be the death of him.

She'd blushed slightly while tying her robe. "Sorry. I had a bit of a problem in the halls. Three of the seventh year boys decided that I'd look better if I had pink skin. I hexed the dickens out of them, but I had to jump in the bath as soon as I got back to my room."

Severus examined her skin (oh to have a good reason to!). There were no traces of pink left.

"I hope your hexes lasted longer than the prank. They should have more respect."

She shrugged. "I'm not a professor. But yes, I don't think they'll enjoy the hexes…especially tonight."

Severus raised a brow. When she didn't speak, he dipped into her mind. It was a bad habit, entering her so often, feeling her mind around his…

He watched the scene with the boys (men really…he'd been younger than them when he pledged himself to the Dark Lord…) and noted their faces. They used a trip wire to trigger the spell that turned Hermione pink, but her barrage of wand work afterward was impressive. She finished each with a hex that would interfere with certain involuntary reactions until it was lifted. He tucked that spell away in his head…it might be useful.

He pulled out of her mind with reluctance.

Now she was smirking at him. "You really should stop doing that." But her lips were smiling…

He shrugged. "I taught you Occlumency. Use it." She was quite capable of keeping him out of her head. He never pushed, only skimmed. He was quite sure she was using the techniques he'd taught her to bring up memories deliberately.

He felt another jolt of desire.

Damn it.

"So the three that attacked you.."

"Played a prank on me…"

"Will not be enjoying this holiday with their significant other."

She raised an eyebrow. "Or by themselves. Poppy knows how to lift the hex, as do I, but it will take them some time to realize they've been jinxed, and hopefully even longer to decide to do something about it."

He shifted his weight, trying to adjust his raging erection. Creative and vicious just hit all of his buttons…

He cleared his throat. "That won't keep me from assigning them detention for the next three months. Perhaps something appropriate…" Like a session of preparing ingredients for love potions. Most of them looked like the female sex organs in one way or another. Then again…maybe he should just obliviate the little bastards and give them to Hagrid. Perhaps something in the Forbidden Forest would eat them.

Hermione wrapped her warm fingers around his wrist. If she looked down, she would see the straining erection, even under the many layers of black clothing.

"Thank you." She smiled at him. She didn't relinquish his wrist, just pulled him into her bedroom where a crystal bowl sat. The silver memories swirled around like a siren's call, highlighting the runes and making the shadows to dance along the walls.

"I've never seen one made of crystal before."

"Some research from the Salem institute indicated that it would work better than the granite that is normally used…the molecular structure of the crystal is tighter. I think that diamond would actually work best, but since I haven't got a three hundred pound diamond handy, I used my mum's old punch bowl."

Severus chuckled, though he knew that Hermione's flippant comment covered a great deal of pain. Her parents were in Australia, and they would forever be a childless couple that had emigrated. Her memory charm had been too strong. In order to save her parents, she'd rendered herself an orphan. Severus covered her hand with his large one.

She knew she'd done the right thing…sending them away during the war…but it didn't change the fact that she still missed them. Merlin, he wanted to hold her. Wrap her in his arms and make her forget everything that made her unhappy…

Severus shook his head to dispel those foolish thoughts.

He turned his attention to the pensive in the hope of distracting her. "The way you etched the runes into the crystal is quite fascinating. Did you actually use acid?"

She nodded. "I've tried to use as little magic on the pensive as possible. The interference from the magic…"

"Yes…but I notice you added an unbreakable charm."

"I've watched a lot of people use the pensive. It has to be able to take a beating."

Thinking about the time he tossed Albus' pensive across the room, Severus had to agree.

He leaned down to examine the runes. He felt her hip connect with his bum and he felt himself falling into her memories.

Like everything else about her, they were organized, even in the pensive.

The first was jet of bluebell flames landing on his robes during that damned Quidditch match in Potter's first year. He smirked to himself. He'd known it was her. None of the students had produced flames that color during the preceding year. The bluebell-colored flames were worthless as a weapon really. They were so bright and friendly that a wizard could pick them up with only a mild charm to protect the skin. His robes hadn't even been scorched.

The next memory did surprise him. He'd always assumed that Potter had stolen the ingredients for the polyjuice they'd brewed in her second year. Minx. Brewing polyjuice at that age.

He sifted through them quickly, knowing she would pull him out soon. Since she'd been the one to bump him in the first place, she could hardly complain about her privacy. Oh, how he loved invading her thoughts.

He stopped on the memory of her actions _that_ night. She'd silently placed a body bind curse on him before he'd actually died, effectively suspending the flow of poison and the need for his body to function. Then she'd shoved a beazor down his throat (the irony wasn't lost on him) while Potter was busy looking at the swirling memories.

The beazor had dissolved and he'd found a blood replenisher beside him as the curse wore off. He'd been weak when she returned hours later, but alive. He watched the memory of it…how she had moved his body to the infirmary under Potter's cloak…how she had brought Poppy to him and hexed the daylights out of Weasley when he'd burst in and objected (somehow Severus had missed that the first go around…it made him positively gleeful to see it).

Severus turned to exit the pensive, sure there would be little or nothing left that he wanted to view. Then a memory caught his eye. Hermione, in the room he'd just been in with her…back arched, legs splayed, curls wild on her pillow. Obviously in the middle of a powerful orgasm. She pulled a long, thick glass object out of her core, panting. It was supposed to be a cock obviously, some muggle thing no doubt. He frowned as he realized that it wasn't just some toy. It was _his_. A model of his own fully erect cock. How the hell had she gotten that? Of course, then she licked the tip of it and plunged it back into her depths…and he stopped wondering anything at all.

 **SSHGSSHGSSHG**

He pulled his consciousness out of the pensive with difficulty. He'd seen the witch scream his name over and over again in passion…a dozen times, perhaps more. In the tent that she and Potter had shared. In her Gryffindor bed during her sixth year. As her red headed lover snored beside her after failing to provide any pleasure…

And when he returned to himself, she was there, in her green robe, with that delicious short set peeking out, and her hair wet from the bath.

He didn't hesitate. He tossed her on the bed and kissed her like he was trying to inhale her. Far from objecting, she wrapped her legs around his waist and ground herself into him. He vanished his robe, lost half a dozen buttons, ripped her knickers, and ruined his socks in his haste to get to her flesh.

They came together quickly, both more than ready.

There were few words in their frenzy. It was only afterward, as he pulled his soaking member from her sopping core that he spoke. "That was…unexpected."

He pushed sweaty curls from her face and placed a gentle kiss on her neck, directly over a purple love bite that he'd given her mere moments before.

She cradled his face in her hand. "You weren't catching my hints. Apparently, I was too subtle."

"So you pushed me into a pensive of memories of you screaming my name as you pushed a copy of my shaft into yourself." He plundered her mouth, pouring everything he felt into the kiss. "Subtle you aren't, my love."

She snuggled into his arms like the lioness she was. "I told you that if you kept looking into my memories you'd find something you didn't expect."


End file.
